


what a year this day has been

by indierection (amandamoraisa)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 15:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandamoraisa/pseuds/indierection
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is a train wreck on the travel back from Doncater after Louis football match. And we all know the road is a dangerous place for a depressed and broken hearted person to be, because you never know what to wait on the next curve; an abyss, maybe a truck. You see, not really pleasant things, unless you’re feeling kinda suicide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what a year this day has been

On the travel back from Doncaster to London he’s a train wreck. And he can’t stop thinking how ironic it is that _he_ is a train wreck and Louis must be in the train at the same time; and that a wreck would come in handy, really, because at least he would cry for worthiest things. Another biting thought: Louis was riding a train like he was riding _him_ hours ago.

Maybe he should just let his Rover run off the road right to the next precipice, Harry thinks.  It wouldn’t take much effort, since it’s dark and he can badly see the highway lanes through the tears.

He wonders when he became this dense and deep twat, covered with dumb tattoos and teardrops. The tats, those he can explain, and it’s a simple deduction: he has to mark his body with _something_ that will stick forever. If love bites disappear in twenty days, at least the tattoos will always be imprinted in his skin, and they hurt less, figuratively talking. Those drawings will last till his death, which, to be honest, will be sooner than expected if he doesn’t stop with the suicide thoughts. Harry can’t guess too when exactly a disaster started to sound like a good and plausible thing.

On the beginning they had sugary kisses, dolphins, rainbows and sappy lovebirds stuff. Then, people said they had to hide. At first was exciting, sure, because they were always on the edge, expectation and rush bubbling in their bloods with every secret snog. They stayed together waiting for the truth to come out. Which didn’t happen.

Instead, they had to be more and more careful, till the point they ceased being themselves. Till the point they had to lie, fake obscene and outrageousthings and avoid others they would naturally do, like hug or touch hands. The situation was crushing all the special shared things, making his Louis feel filthy, lose the glow and becomes a bitter old soul. And because of this a train wreck would be more than welcome, thank you very much.

Harry wipes his teary eyes and holds tight the steering wheel, the knuckles bloodless white. The night wind enters fast and freezing through the car window. This world is not fair, he thinks, because he used to believe that having millions of pounds and riding fancy cars and beautiful girls would sums up happiness. And he never been so miserable now that he have these all. Stupid Louis and his flawless existence, he thinks stepping deeper on the pedal.

-

The most hurtful part of the fight, Harry reasons, is that Louis made a fool of him. A completely and blatantly idiot. He was so delighted with the perspective of a great week, staying over at Louis’ grandpa house and cheering for him at the football game. He was _so_ fucking proud! A bubble of happiness was pressing his chest during the whole day, making hard to breath and at the same time feeling good. Everybody was there, to support him, testify the generous and wonderful person Louis is and sense why Harry was head over feet for him.

But Louis knows how to break a heart too. How to be the most wicked and cruel son of a bitch. He waited till everything calm down, past midnight already, to tell him that he was moving out. He waited till they make love quietly in the completely dark. He waited till Harry was feeling extraordinary, heavy limps and waves of pleasure all over his body, to tell he is moving out. With Eleanor. And that there is no space for him and he is uninvited.

And shush dear, let me explain... No, management thinks it’s an important step for our “relationship”… You know I love you loads… And you still can sneak… I know, I’m frustrated too, but we have no choice… I said a million times I’m not ashamed of you, damn Harry… You’re putting me in a awkward situation… I know, we both are trapped and… Please, promise me you’ll visit me in London? We’ll live just a few blocks away and Eleanor brought… Harry, we’re you’re going? Wait! Don’t… HARRY! HARRY! HAZ!

-

A large truck comes in the opposite direction, blinding Harry with its headlights. And it is so easy. Just half spin of the wheel and it’s all over. The pain, the longing, the overpowering craving, the never ending urge, all the expectations gone.

But the moment passes and the truck too, blowing a big whiff of cold autumn wind right in his face while Harry realizes. He knows. He will arrive in London, at their grievous flat and cry his eyes out like he did countless times. The next day he’ll buy fruits in an attempt to be healthy and to remember that he must stay alive in _some way_. And, just to fell more vivid, and because it became an after fight ritual, Harry will tattoo a meaningless thing. The band will look at it murmuring compliments and Louis will tap his shoulder with moist eyes and pitiful.

Harry will be more depressed than he ever felt, but he will flaunt a smirk in his smug face because the hurt in Louis’ eyes will reveal what he is feeling _too_. He feels something. He has feelings and they share it. He shares _something_ with Harry. They still have things in common. The same sorrow, the same broken dreams, the same dirty secrets, the same blissful little things and the same fewer moments of happiness. All of these belong to both of them and nobody, even death, will _ever_ extinguish them.


End file.
